By The Big Guy
Last weekend the little lady and I headed to The Grumpys’ palatial estate for some friendship and football. College friends and their brides at the annual gathering doing our best to remember names and faces from forty-some years ago as the ladies rolled their eyes, forced to listen to stories they could tell themselves having heard them so many times and letting us know that they weren’t funny the first time they heard them.
We visited Price Hill Chili, famous for, fortunately, their chili, although the owners seem to think the fame has something to do with the visit paid them back during the last decade by some guy named Cheney, documented in framed photographs on the wall near the exit. Glad I didn’t see them on the way in. Would have spoiled my dinner. By the way, the chili was great.
On Saturday it was north to Oxford, Ohio to watch the Miami University Redhawks take on the Central Michigan Sneering Weasels in a game to determine who would have bragging rights for winning the game that afternoon. I was joined in the stands by tens of tens of fans, at best. Perhaps the 0-4 record the Redhawks were sporting heading into the contest was holding down attendance. I’m going to assume that the 0-5 record they were sporting upon completion of the afternoon’s activities won’t improve things.
The most exciting thing during the game was a severe thunderstorm and the threat of lightning, which cleared the entire stadium for about an hour. Once again, Miami’s punter was the most prolific player on the team. Also, fans in the stands engaged in an interesting game of their own during play. They look at the Redhawk offensive formation and in unison shout out the play that is about to be run, with close to one hundred percent accuracy. If the fans in the stands could figure it out, the Sneering Weasels also might have had a pretty good idea of what to expect. Well, just wait ‘til next week. New coach!
It was a great time no matter what and now in the best home and home tradition Grumpy is heading to my turf. This weekend it’s the Mecum Auto Auction at the exquisite Schaumburg Convention Center in picturesque (no, not really) Schaumburg, Illinois. By the time you read this Grumpy may have the enviable problem of trying to figure out how he’s going to get his newly purchased ’55 Chevy pickup back home. Won’t Mrs. Grumpy be surprised. Pleased, too. It should be a bunch of fun.
For those of you wondering, Grumpy has advised me that he won’t be packing heat, or bullets (euphemistically referred to as rounds), either. Something to do with the lack of clarity in the still gestating Illinois law on packing heat.
Nothing like spending time with old friends because, well, you’re old.